


Reclaimed

by unwindmyself



Series: curious shapes shift in the dark [35]
Category: True Blood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Female Friendship, Fix-It, Gen, Sparring, Team Dynamics, agency and choices!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-29
Updated: 2014-03-29
Packaged: 2018-01-17 10:19:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1383892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unwindmyself/pseuds/unwindmyself
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tara attempts to teach all the other babies (fairy and vampire) a little about combat; Jessica comes out of the fit Bill's summons had her in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reclaimed

**Author's Note:**

> Part three, "Singers and the Endless Song."

“So,” Tara begins. The furniture is pushed up against the walls (Jessica still laid out on the couch with Pam now relegated to the task of monitoring her) and the whole living room area is clear enough for them to work in. (If there were more trees around the property, they’d think about doing this outside, but it’s just not practical.) “Can I assume we’re startin’ from scratch here?”

Adilyn perks up for a moment, but Charlaine nudges her and whispers, “Watchin’ magical girl anime doesn’t count for knowin’ about fights,” so she settles for giving a halfhearted shrug.

“’Kay, so first things first, then,” Tara continues (she’s not gonna crack a smile at that, hell no she ain’t). “Punching. How strong are y’all naturally?” She glances at Sookie for answers; she’s really kind of just asking about fairies in general, since these four are, well, still newborns.

“Not strong like vampires,” Sookie shrugs from her place in the dining room. She’s just waiting to play her role in this. “But strong enough.”

“Got it,” Tara says. “So in general, save your punches for emergencies. Punching a vampire isn’t your best option, but if they get close enough that it’s your best one, you might as well know how. So. Start by making a fist.” All of the girls do this, then hold their hands out for inspection; after a moment, Tara takes Danika’s hand and pulls her forward to display. “This is the best way to do it, here. See how her thumb’s at the bottom of her other fingers, not between them or at the side of them?”

“Yeah,” Adilyn and Willa echo.

“That’s gonna keep you from breaking your thumb,” Tara continues.

The other four rearrange their hands, frowning in concentration (it shouldn’t be this complicated, they all feel like, but also they trust Tara's advice) and then letting Tara examine their adjustments.

“Better?” Braelyn asks for all of them.

“Much better,” Tara agrees. “Now when you’re actually throwing the punch, you’re gonna wanna aim with your first two knuckles, okay? Like this.” She demonstrates the proper form, then calls over her shoulder, “Pam, throw me one of those pillows.”

“I’ll do one better,” Pam replies. “Auntie, cover me?”

Nora pushes her chair back from the table, taking the bottle of TruBlood that she and Eric were sharing in one hand and squeezing his hand with the other before nodding politely at Sookie.   “You two keep on talking it over,” she says before going to take up Pam’s place in the armchair (now wedged against the wall of the stairwell between the television table and the coffee table) and thus allowing Pam, overstuffed pillow in hand, to join Tara and the girls.

“You two are cute together,” Sookie tells Eric softly. She still doesn’t know how she feels about Nora as an individual, and she still doesn’t know quite how she feels about Eric especially in relation to herself, but all things considered she’s pretty sure they suit each other, and that’s probably good for everyone.

“My sister and I are many things,” Eric counters. “Devoted to each other, certainly. Highly combustible, without a doubt.” His dry tone slides into one a touch gentler for a moment. “More affectionate with each other than we allow ourselves to be with anyone else? Yes. But never _cute_.”

Sookie lets out a laugh. There’s the self-deprecating tough guy she’s known. “Fine, fine,” she says. “Next time I think about complimenting you, I’ll skip it.”

Eric nods solemnly, but he’s smirking. “See that you do,” he agrees.

“ _Shit_ ,” Charlaine screams out suddenly, and everyone looks up to see her cradling her fist and pouting while Pam, pillow still held to her chest, shrugs. “That fuckin’ hurt.”

“It’s not gonna get easier,” Tara tells her matter-of-factly.

“Well, I know,” Charlaine grumbles. “You’re tellin’ me it didn’t freak you out the first time you hit someone and it hurt?”

Tara folds her arms in that way Sookie knows to mean “don’t push it,” and she makes sure to think that loud enough that Charlaine hears and drops it.

“Let’s try again,” Pam jumps in when it seems like everything’s back on track.

Eric and Sookie turn their attention back toward each other. “You mentioned you had humans who were willing to help us, too?” Eric asks.

“Yeah,” Sookie says. “This girl Nicole came in to Merlotte’s wantin’ to get Luna and Sam to – oh, never mind, but anyway the point is they’re all about keepin’ everyone’s equal rights. I talked to her earlier tonight and she said they’d be willing to come help us bust this place up.”

“Wonderful,” Eric agrees.

 

* * *

 

It’s maybe half an hour later, once Willa and the Bellefleur girls have mastered the art of throwing punches at least and moved onto slightly more complicated maneuvers, when Jessica’s finally stopped muttering and writhing; albeit warily, Nora announces this to the group.

“Gloves are on the TV table,” Pam calls out, but Nora’s not paying it mind, she pops up out of the armchair and just yanks the chains from Jessica’s body without a second thought.

“Damn!” Willa exclaims. “Doesn’t that hurt?”

Nora makes a noncommittal _maybe_ of a noise. “I’ve had worse,” she says evasively. “My burns will heal in a minute.” She makes to help Jessica sit up, then carefully eases down beside her. “Are you feeling better?” she asks.

Jessica sighs. “I’m not great, but I’m getting by.”

“Are you thinking you’re up to joining them?” Nora murmurs, nodding toward where Tara’s currently adjusting Adilyn’s stance as the others look on.

“In a minute,” Jessica mumbles. “Still kinda…” _Sore, after nearly having my body torn apart by my sorta-Maker’s attempts at calling me to him_.

“No, of course,” Nora says.

Jessica’s all sunk down into herself when she adds, “And I don’t think the girls would…” _Want me so close after how I acted_.

“Ah,” Nora nods. That much she understands more familiarly (she’s still not sure _she_ feels comfortable so close to the four of them, to say nothing of how they may feel about it). “That’s – that is to say, it’s convenient, I suppose, because I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Jessica tilts her head. “Yeah?”

“Yes, I…” Nora pauses and really regards Jessica. Of course what she meant to discuss was the revelation about the prophecy that Bill’s summons had prompted: it’s not even a certainty, the book referred to Lilith and not some vessel, but right now it’s the best they’ve got to go on.

But Jessica’s sitting there hugging her leg and looking so forlorn – that’s what it is, Nora realizes, not just pain or distance but proper sadness – and she’s got those red welts all across her skin, and the only thing that Nora feels is sympathy.

“Yeah?” Jessica prompts. “What’s up?”

Nora opens her mouth to answer, she’s going to say it, she _is_ , it would be easier to just unload all the worst of it at once, but she just can’t. It’ll wait, they’re not going in tonight.

“We can talk about it later,” Nora finally says. She reaches for the bottle of TruBlood, unscrews the top, and offers it to the younger girl almost sheepishly. “Are you hungry?”

Jessica blinks. “Yeah,” she says again, just a little taken aback. “I mean, is that okay? I’m not hogging?”

Strictly speaking, it’s Nora’s own share for the evening, but she’s already drunk what she needs. “Go ahead,” she urges. “You need it more, I suspect.”

“Thanks,” Jessica murmurs. Even if it’s just pity-niceness, she’ll take it.

“Hey, Jess,” Braelyn calls suddenly. “Finish your dinner and come on over, ‘kay? We’ve got stuff to learn.”

Jessica blinks in confusion, but there are all the fairy girls (and Willa and Pam and Tara) staring at her expectantly, and there’s Nora beside her nodding encouragingly, and yeah, maybe she can handle this.

 

* * *

 

Tara doesn’t say directly, but she when she subsequently assigns sparring partners it’s based on skill level and temperament both.  As the resident fighting expert, she takes on Danika, who’s making the quickest progress, and Pam and Adilyn, next-strongest of their respective groups by virtue of being the oldest of them playing, get paired off accordingly; Charlaine’s the least easily-spooked of them, so she doesn’t mind working with Jessica, and Braelyn and Willa are, at their own admission, still having the hardest time figuring all this out, so they work together.

“Sure you’re up for this?” Charlaine asks Jessica as they both tug their ponytails tighter.

“Might as well be,” Jessica sighs.  “Odds are he’s gonna try this same shit on me when we’re actually fighting him, either I gotta fight through it or y’all have to subdue me or whatever.”  She glances at Nora, now perched on the half-wall between the dining and living rooms, for backup in this.

“In theory, yes,” she accordingly agrees.  “It could be that the effects will be different when we’re in closer physical proximity, but nonetheless, practice getting through it isn’t a horrible idea.”

Charlaine shrugs.  “’Kay,” she says.  “You wanna throw the first punch or should I?”

“Talkin’ about it sorta defeats the point,” Tara calls over her shoulder.  “Just one of you go and take it from there.”

In the space of a minute, then, there are three pairs of (gently) sparring vampires and fairies spread out across the living room, then Willa and Braelyn more or less in the corner, wallflowering with matching sheepish expressions.

“I don’t really know where to start,” Willa admits.

“Me either,” Braelyn says, but then a split second later and with a sly look out of the corner of her eye, she promptly flips Willa over and onto her back, then straddles her, pulls an imaginary stake from her back pocket, and slowly presses it against Willa’s heart.  “Gotcha.  I win.”

“It’s not a competition,” Willa points out, but she’s smiling.

“Nah, but that makes it more fun,” Braelyn counters, smiling cheekily.


End file.
